


Due Reward

by LeggoxMyxGreggo



Category: Fury (2014)
Genre: And hurts good characters, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Minor canonical character death, My mind goes dark places, Non-Canonical Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 17:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2590610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeggoxMyxGreggo/pseuds/LeggoxMyxGreggo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The moment between Emma and Norman was not what it had seemed. But as far as Norman wants his new crew-mates to know, it was no different than what they thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Due Reward

**Author's Note:**

> Me and a buddy thought that the Emma scene could have gone a lot differently, that Norman seemed a little to shaken for someone who had just gotten laid.  
> The timeline is a bit stretched but in the world I live in, it's all sunshine and rainbows.

         It wasn't like it was his first time. Though his first time/had/ been awkward, it had been with the sweet neighbor girl that he had grown up with the day after he got his orders to New Jersey for boot camp. She had been nice enough and he really wanted to make it good for her even if he had to pretend to that he liked her.  
But this was war. Right? He was supposed to drink and fuck and fight. Be just like the others. Maybe it was retribution for lying to Sergeant Collier. It didn't seem like he knew what had happened though. Shooting a look to the commander behind him he concludes that no, he didn't know. Though Bible hadn't stopped staring at him since that day, as though he knew something was wrong, like some kind of freaky sixth sense. He's pulled from his thoughts by movement to the right and he's thankful to see a rabbit scurrying past. Norman doubted his nerves could take killing one of those Nazi children right now.

         Sleep came pretty slow lately, Emma's hands firm against his chest every time he closed his eyes enough to deter even the thought. Sergeant Collier and Bible's eyes follow him as he takes first watch again for the third night in a row, as he /offers/ to take it for the third night. He uses the same excuse from the first night, the same one he'll use tomorrow and likely the day after until this damn war is over, "I'm just not too tired yet."

         He's woken by a hand on his shoulder and struggles against it, breathing fast as he stares up into Coon-ass' confused face. "Load up." It takes Norman longer than he wanted to admit to realize that he meant get in the tank. He shoots a nervous look around as he collects his few things, easily slipping on his jacket before clambering onto the tank to take his seat.  
         The day was slow and hot. The heat making the proximity of his comrades nearly unbearable. It didn't stop Norman from letting his hatch close as he sits down to close his eyes, just wanting to hide from everyone. It was almost like they could read it on him. The cloyingly sweet smell from outside makes him gag, his stomach churning before he can even think of where it may be from.  
         "Let me take care of you." Her voice had been so gentle, like she was doing him a favor.  
         Norman barely grabs the empty ammo can in time to empty the meager contents of his stomach. Her hair had been like silk against his face as she leaned over him. The second time he threw up it was nothing more than water before he was just dry heaving into the can. The smell was gone now, almost as soon as it had come and Norman gives in to the urge to curl up in his seat, drawing his knees up. He looked just like the kid they were always calling him but he couldn't bring himself to care about that at this point.

         Two weeks of first watch, that's what it took for Sergeant to snap at him, sending out Coon-ass and telling him to 'get some sleep for fucks sake'. That's how he ended up curled in a ball on his side, twitching out of his doze at the sound of boots crunching on gravel.  
         "You're not asleep, kid." It was Bible. Norman sighs and sits up. "What makes you say that?"  
         "You're not snoring. Could give a bear a run for his money the way you sound." The trigger grins at his before sobering up, seeming to catch sight of something dark in Norman's face. "You haven't slept like that in a while actually. We've all noticed." Norman feels his breath catch, ducking his head to hide the flash of fear that he'd found out. "Now," Bible continues, "I told you, war is harsh but Nazi's aren't good people. It's up to God to judge and for us to send them on their way."  
         Norman could almost sigh in relief. He thought his problem was with killing. That had been the least of his worries since he had realized that he felt relief upon seeing Emma's lifeless body. Yelling at the sight because it hadn't been him because he wasn't enough of a man to like how she had felt. "Wardaddy's noticed." Realizing he had zoned out, Norman quickly meets BIble's gaze. "Noticed what?" He curses the way his voice shook.  
         "How this is effecting you. I don't care what you have to do to fix this but you don't want him taking an interest. Don't put the crew at risk." With that Bible pats his shoulder and gets up to leave. Slowly Norman turns his head to look back at the tank commander. He was on watch and easily caught sight of his wandering eyes. With a long sigh, Norman lays back down.  
         The dreams wake him just as Coon-ass' boot was about to connect with his shoulder, startling the reloader. "Good, you're up. Load up."

         They startle a group of soldiers. Norman thinks that they had just been acting. They had had a lot of fire power with them. A flash of blonde hair catches his eye. It was a commander type it seemed, his blonde hair wasn't shorn as close to his head as was most common. Two shots went through his chest before he could even think about it, the only thought in his mind of Emma. Suddenly he was angry that he hadn't been the one to kill her.  
         Gordo drives the tank over the dead man's body as they continue on their way. Norman grabs his ammo can, the thoughts that he had had during the fire fight making him feel sick. The guys had all cheered him on as he put rounds through the Nazi's in front of him. Maybe this was for the best. Norman shoves his helmet away as he throws up again. He could practically /feel/ Sergeant Collier's eyes on him.

         The dreams passed first, just faint whispers of memory as he wakes every morning. It was better than the panic he felt before. He still woke before anyone could touch him, constantly startling anyone preparing to touch him, his eyes shooting open any time they draw near. Gordo and Coon-ass seemed to take it as a game, getting as close as they could before he opens his eyes. He's pretty sure that Gordo was winning since he woke with the drivers hand on his chest. His chest hurt from how fast his heart was pounding at the feeling of pressure as he slept. Slapping his hand away Norman gets up and pulls his jacket on. He didn't need to be told to load up any more.

         He had thought that he was better. That all of the past few weeks, months, that it was behind him. Maybe he had hoped. The girl had been pretty enough, her touch gentle. His comrades made jokes and laughter filled his ears as she straddled him. Stopping in the liberated town had seemed a good enough idea. It would only be for the night. Norman's fingers dig into her hips, feeling the way his breathing picked up and suddenly it was blonde hair instead of brown. Her breath was hot against his ear as he pushes against the slowly rising panic, trying to prove to the others that he could be like them.  
         "I'll take care of you." Her voice was breathy and maybe if he knew her name he'd be able to differentiate between this time and the last time. One hand pinned his chest as the other reached towards his pants and suddenly he was moving, dumping her to the ground before taking his leave. The boys had meant well. Maybe if he was lucky no one would realize that he hadn't been hard and just think all this was nerves.  
         He liked wandering the towns and villages. They were just so different and yet the same as back home. It cleared his head, stopped his hands from shaking, slowed his pounding heart. Usually he would stick close to the tank but he just wanted some distance from the jeers and Bible's sharp gaze. That second week hadn't been the first time Bible had talked to him about how killing Nazi's was justified by what they had done to their own people or just read him verses to try to soothe him. He held on to the triggers every word, drinking it in like a dying man, like they could save him from his own head.  
         Norman could easily recall one of the nights that Bible had sat with him trying to help with a problem he knew nothing of.  
         "Give them according to their work and according to the evil of their deeds," Bible's voice was sure as he spoke, "give to them according to the work of their hands; render them their due reward." There was something in those words that put something at ease inside him,  
         "Render them their due reward." Norman repeats, trying to commit the words to memory.  
         "Psalm 28:4. These people, what they've done, they deserve what we give them." Yet all Norman could think of was Emma's lifeless body. She was definitely given her due reward. Norman had thanked Bible as he left to join Sergeant Collier on the side of the camp. He slept better that night.  
         Now as he returns to their little camp to rest before his watch, he didn't feel as settled as he had. Norman almost wished that Bible would come tonight with his calm words of wisdom to soothe him. Looking around he catches sight of Bible sharing a bottle with Coon-ass and laughing about something the man was saying.  
         Changing his mind about talking to the trigger man, Norman finds a spot void of too many rocks to lay down, pillowing his head on his jacket. He was so tired. It was hard to imagine that Emma was nearly two months ago.  
         There were hands pinning him, shocking him still. He was never very strong, that was proven any time he and coon-ass got physical. It didn't stop him from struggling now.  
         "Stop it. Stop. Just breath, it's me, kid. Norman. Don't fight me." It was almost embarrassing how long it took him to realize it was Sergeant Collier's voice in his ear, the man's arms tight around his shoulders and chest, practically a physical representation of what he felt when he thought of her.  
         "Stop it. Get...." Norman struggles, the touch sending dread through him. "Get off me." It didn't matter that this was Wardaddy, the one man who made it his mission to get them through this war okay. It didn't matter because there was a vice like grip around him, hot breath on his ear. "Emma." He gives up fighting, letting himself be dragged close  to Wardaddy's chest.  
         "I know you miss her." The thought made his head swim. "But that's the way of war. It ain't pretty." The commander's voice prattled on slowly in his ear and all he could think was how wrong he was. Wrong. Norman's chest ached with how hard his heart was pounding and it took everything he had not to curl up. He was too old to cry but it didn't stop the fact that he wanted to, not because of his 'love passing' but merely for the fact that he was so wrong.  
         "I'm gay." The words fell before he could stop them, correcting Wardaddy without his permission. It stopped the older man's ramblings dead and all he could think was that what ever he had found of friendship in the tank had shattered with two words.  
         "Stop. God damn it, Norman! Calm down." The shout did the trick and Norman looks up at the Sergeant above him, lost as to when they had moved. "I don't care that you're gay. You're still a good man." He watches something flicker over the man's face. "No one in this damned tank care that you don't chase skirts." Norman was almost positive looking back on this he will see the moment that some kind of dawning came over the Sergeant in front of him. "What did you two do behind those doors, then?"  
         "We fucked." Norman scoffs, stomach churning as he scowls. "We fucked and it was great." The lie was easier than it should have been.  
         "If you're gay, why did you fuck her?" The man was obviously starting to piece together some puzzle.  
         "She was cute. I didn't want anyone to know, it was great. Can't wait to do it-" Everyone had a way of stopping someone from rambling or arguing. Bible yelled, Coon-ass blew raspberries or smacked your head, Gordo just stepped between and Sergeant Collier...he just grabbed you. Which was how Norman found himself, jaw held firm between the       man's fingers.  
         "Don't. Lie. To. Me." Each word was ground out like a threat, keen eyes searching his face.  
         Norman opens his mouth a few times before closing it, eyes darting to look away. That seemed to be enough of an answer as he found himself pulled into a tight hug. The touch was welcome this time, different from the nightmares, comforting. Eyes burning, Norman closed them tightly and relaxes into the man slowly. Wardaddy was a good name for him.  
         "Why did you wake me up?" He rubs at his face to try to hide how close he had been to crying.  
         "Seemed you were having some kind of terror. The boys usually wake you from them but they're all still having a good time." As if to prove his point a bottle crashes a distance away, Coon-ass' loud whoop following immediately after. "None of us knew what they were from. Didn't think it was the war."  
         Shaking his head, Norman reaches for his canteen, sitting up as he realises he's still leaning against Wardaddy. "It's stupid. It really is. I tried drinking to not think about it but the day after, my head hurt and I couldn't find the energy to ignore the thought of her." Norman lets out an upset laugh. "I fucking hate it."  
         "Learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the fatherless, plead the widow's cause."  
         "What?" Norman's confusion is met by a bark of laughter.  
         "Listen to Boyd, he'll rub off on you." Wardaddy shrugs and slowly stands. "Its the Bible, take what you will from it. Get some sleep. We're up early tomorrow."  
Norman slowly nods. Even as he walked away smiling, there seemed to be something dark over the man's face. He didn't sleep that night.  
  
         He had been sleeping horribly once more the past few days, starting to take first watch once more. Wardaddy only lets it happen for three days before sending Gordo out to send Norman back.  
         "I can handle taking first watch." He snaps at the laid back leader. Lack of sleep made him tense and unpleasant.  
         "I haven't seen you eat today." The comment throws Norman for a loop and he pauses. "What?"  
         "You haven't been eating." Wardaddy states again, holding out a cup with beans in it. "We opened our rations today. Eat."  
He wasn't given a choice as Bible's firm but gentle hands cover his shoulders to push him onto their makeshift seat. "Sarge said eat. So eat." Bible's tone left no room for argument as the beans were pushed into his hands and the man wanders away.  
         "If I'm not hungry?" The question is barely out before he gets a sharp response.  
         "Then I open your mouth and make you eat. So eat damnnit before I help you." That nudges Norman to take a bite and he quickly realises how hungry he is, finishing off the food he was given quickly. A sharp look from Wardaddy makes him duck his head again. It felt like he could read his soul like that. "Thanks." Norman murmurs.  
         "Its well and good. You still hungry?" And then Wardaddy was passing him another portion of the food, watching him. Norman takes it, knowing better than to argue. He hadn't eaten since that morning.  
Now that he was calmer, more worn down than angry he could speak with a civil tone. "Why did you take me off of watch?"  
         "When Bible first killed a man he could hardly sleep for a week. Kept waking up." Their leaders voice was matter of fact, confusing Norman more. Before he could ask, Wardaddy continues. "Didn't start sleeping well until one night, Coon-ass sat beside him. They sat together touching from knee to shoulder and for the first night in almost a month, he slept." Wardaddy pulls out a cigarette.  
         "Why are you-"  
         "Shut. Up." Norman's mouth snaps shut at the order. "Sometimes, it helps to have people around that even if they don't get it, they get /you/. That's what you need. Finish eating." The food was finished quickly, followed by a few healthy swigs from his canteen. "Bible's gonna clean up. He doesn't like when someone does it wrong, you know that. Gets some kind of bug up his ass." Throwing the cigarette to the ground, Wardaddy stretches and stands. Norman watches him, surprised as his cup is set aside. "Neither of us has post tonight. C'mon."  
         Norman follows Wardaddy's tugging of his jacket, standing up. He was still confused by what Wardaddy had meant but it was easily cleared up as the man slipped his jacket off. The reaction was stupid, the man only ever protected him bit it didn't change how he froze up, letting himself be pushed to sit down on the ground this time.  
         "Breathe, Norman. We're just sleepin'. I'm a dick but I'm no monster." Wardaddy spoke soothingly seeing how he froze. The commander folded the jacket into a pillow before pushing Norman to lay his head down on it and it was then that his brain seemed to get with the program.  
         "What are you doing?" He asks, jumping as Wardaddy's bigger jacket was lain over him like a blanket and the man leaned back against the tree behind him. Norman could feel Wardaddy's thigh warm against his shoulder and if he listened, he could hear the rustling of the pages of a book, a click as the pistol is set somewhere beside him.  
         "I'm reading. /You/ are going to sleep."  
         "No, I mean.....why? What are you doing?"  
         "Coon-ass is stupid as a bag of rocks sometimes and he's got the sense that God gave dirt but he understands people." Wardaddy shifts and before Norman can look a hand lands in his hair. "I like to think I learn from my men. You ever hear any German tales?"  
Norman shakes his head, still confused. "No."  
          "Okay. Close your eyes...They closed?" Wardaddy moves again and Norman sees him look down. "Close them." A hand covers his eyes to make him close them. "Good. This one is good, its called Die drei Hunde. The Three Dogs. It says, 'A dying peasant told his son and daughter...'"  
         Norman kept his eyes closed as he listened to Wardaddy's stilted reading, translating the foreign words to him. He was warm against his shoulder and he couldn't help feeling safe with him keeping watch.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first posted story. It's also been a long time since I've written anything but Fury hit me somewhere and I needed more about these characters.
> 
> This is un-beta'd but if anyone would like to help me out, I would greatly appreciate it.
> 
> I'm still open to doing any requests. If you want the shield of anonymity, my tumblr is BlastaBaby and the anonymous is on.


End file.
